


Dream a little Dream of Stiles

by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)



Series: Lost Boys [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dream Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgy, Other, Succubus, explicit talk of sex, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:59:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/DarkAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone at the pack house has woken up tired, except for Stiles (and Scott) and with Laura away Peter is determined to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a little Dream of Stiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlphaFeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaFeels/gifts).



Stiles woke up to a bed that had been empty for a week. Laura had come up with a separation plan to see how long Stiles could go without a regular feed. So Derek had been at a convention for the past four days. She had chosen the convention for two reasons, one she wanted to go, and two she thought it would be hilarious to bring her brother to Yaoi-con where he would be groped, fondled and all out molested by fan-girls asking about his "costume" if she made him wear Stiles' cat ears, or just humping his leg if he wolfed out. She _said_ it was to help control his rage.

So with Laura and Derek away Peter was in charge of the betas, and the adage when the cat is away seemed eerily prophetic. Stiles was sure there was some sort of method to his madness but yesterday he had had all four of them trying to catch paper butterflies over a fan with chopsticks. Stiles had managed to get out of it only by virtue of genuinely having a lot of homework to do and how he was supposed to be saving his energy.

But he wasn't hungry.

He was jerking off on average four times a day, sometimes more, but he wasn't hungry.

Well, Peter was an excellent chef and Stiles ate like the rest of the betas, devouring everything in sight, but he wasn't hungry. Which was odd, because when Derek was here it was at least once every two days if not more. So by the time Stiles had washed, dressed, cursed Peter out for throwing away yet more of his clothes, the other betas had already finished with their early morning training regimes and were sat around having breakfast.

Isaac, Erica and Boyd looked like Peter had put them through the wringer, Peter didn't look too much better himself, but Scott, on the other hand, looked full of the joys of spring.

"Wow," Stiles said, pulling himself unto one of the kitchen stools and getting himself a plate. "You all look like shit."

Erica groaned into her plate of eggs. 

Isaac spoke up. "I had the weirdest dream last night," he said, "it was like I hadn't slept at all." He glared at Stiles, "and you were in it."

"Really?" Stiles asked, he never remembered his dreams. "What was it about?"

Erica, Isaac and Boyd blushed and paid a lot more attention to their breakfast whilst Peter just looked amused and Scott was bewildered. "Oh, god," Erica said, "you too?" She looked at the other two, "I am not staying over again, I don't care how early training starts, Peter, I'm staying at home." Then she sort of flopped down on the counter next to her plate.

"I don't know," Peter said, leering at Stiles, "I quite enjoyed the dreams myself."

"Dude," Isaac protested, "just no!"

"I stayed here and I didn't dream at all." Scott said, liberating Erica's plate of eggs so that he could finish them without asking.

"In fact," Peter continued completely ignoring Erica, flopped out on the counter, Isaac's look of open mouthed- still full of egg -horror and Boyd's, well Boyd just looked tired and was probably meditating or something because he was completely expressionless, "I think we should individually tell our dreams and compare notes."

Now it was more than just Isaac who was horrified, all of them, Boyd included looked horrified. 

"It's pack bonding, there should be no secrets between pack." He said. "And there should definitely be no awkwardness between you and Stiles over what your subconscious mind threw up, they're just dreams after all. I'll go first."

Erica dropped unto the counter with a thump as her forehead hit it and Scott, taking the empty plates said, "I didn't have any dreams, I'm out of here and I would much rather study organic chemistry in Greek than be part of this conversation, bye." And leaving the plates in the sink he vanished with what was clearly lycanthropic speed as Erica shouted how much she hated him into the counter.

"No, no no," Boyd said, "you're twisted," he continued, "Peter you can go LAST." He emphasised the word, "and Laura wouldn't make us do this."

"Laura is at a convention having girls dressed as Sailor Moon drape over Derek because it makes him uncomfortable and she can put the photos on the internet." Peter said, "and she left me in charge. Boyd, you start."

Isaac looked horrified and it was hard to tell what Erica's face was doing because her head genuinely looked like someone had placed a wig on the counter, but there was a groan, it was muffled by her arms, but it was definitely a groan.

"Right," Boyd said, and then drained his orange juice in a single swallow. "For the record I want to say I am totally against this, and I'm only doing it because my Alpha Proxy made me."

"Amen," Stiles and Isaac said holding up their glasses, Erica raised one of her hands from around her head and muttered something that was probably assent.

"okay so it was dark, and I was in the woods." Boyd began.

"Because that's unusual for a werewolf." Isaac snarked pouring himself a coffee from the carafe on the counter.

"As I was saying," Boyd continued like he had never been interrupted, "it was snowing, and I had been hunting, I had a deer or a sheep or a goat maybe, definitely a big dead thing, on my back." The others seemed perfectly normal at this even if Stiles did think it was a bit odd. "And there was a cabin in the woods."

"Did it have demons?" Isaac asked, "it's not a cabin in the woods unless it's got demons."

"And that's why that movie sucked," Erica mumbled into her arms.

"This is a safe place, Boyd," Peter said using the exact same tone of voice and wording he used when he gave high school juniors their sex ed lessons. As horrifying as that had been the only other teacher qualified had been Finstock so Yay Creepy Mr Hale talking about condoms and how for years it had been boiled sheep's intestine that they tied together with a ribbon and washed out when you were done so you should know how lucky you are. Beacon Hills had a long history of a low STD rate and teen pregnancy - everyone was convinced it was because their kids were intelligent, but really it was the fear of sex that Peter drilled into them. He told them that if any of them ever turned up with herpes or crabs he would know and that had been threat enough. "No one is going to judge you here." And if Peter's voice cracked at that no one said anything, especially not Erica who was still face first on the counter.

"So," Boyd said, "I was carrying my kill back to the cabin, and there was a fire, in the fireplace," he qualified, "and Stiles was there but he was a girl." Stiles raised an eyebrow but said nothing, he was too mortified by the whole conversation to even snark much. "Sorry, dude," Boyd continued, "I don't like dudes that way, if I want to play with a dick I've got my own, yanno." 

"And isn't that a lovely image." Peter leered with an eyebrow waggle that was entirely for show as Stiles mumbled no offence.

"So," Boyd continued, "Stiles was a girl and he, she, was wearing this old fashioned dress and had a really long braid, yanno, like down to his knees, and when she saw that I had brought her the kill she smiled. There was a table and she sat on it, with her feet on this bench, and she was wearing boots, but she hitched up her skirt to show me. She wasn't wearing panties, and she had this dark hair, and she licked her fingers and started fingering herself, so I could see. She was rewarding me for the kill." He stopped, licking his lips like there was a phantom taste there, "and there was blood around my mouth and she kissed it away. Even though I fucked her I felt like she was fucking me, like there was more to it than just sex, although I was the one pinning her to the table, and I was the one standing over her, you know, and it was intense, it was way better than real sex."

Erica roused at that with a hurt "oy!" sound.

"Interesting." Peter said resting his hand against his chin, with his finger against his mouth, in a way he thought made him look distinguished but really just made him look like a pedophile at a kindergarten, unwelcome and highly inappropriate. "Isaac, do you want to tell us about your dream?"

"No," Isaac said bluntly, then looked around and gave a sigh, clearly deciding that solidarity with Boyd was the better part of valour. "It was a just a dream," he added as a qualifier. "It wasn't even as detailed as Boyd's I don't dream like that." Peter just looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "I was in Harris' class and I had gotten an A, and Stiles was bent over the desk with his pants around his ankles, and we were fucking, okay."

"and?" Erica said turning her head in her arms. "Face up, back to front, with his legs up around his ears, what?"

"And this would be what attracts your attention?" Stiles asked, "why am I unsurprised?"

"god is in the details, Stiles, you know that." Peter said, tapping his finger against the side of his mouth.

"No, god is in the comments and kudos you get for your badly written werewolf porn that you pass off as being fanfic of Laura's novels." 

Erica just grinned at him. "Oh, baby," she said, "it's not like Laura's not writing them too." And that didn't surprise Stiles one bit. "and Boyd." Boyd's grin was sharklike across the counter. "He has more followers than the two of us put together." Boyd nodded gleefully. "And he only writes Het."

"Unpopular pairing," he said, "I write Succubus!Evan, not Incubus!Evan, the feminists LOOOOOOVE me."

"You just write hotter sex." Peter said, lifting his coffee. "Of course I am a BNF, CryptOrchid at your service."

"Bastard," Erica said and shoved her head back under her arms.

"Does everyone except me write fanfic for the novel that Laura wrote about me?" Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"Nah," Erica mumbled, "Isaac does fanart."

"It's not fanart," Isaac said, "when the author herself asks me to help illustrate scenes, she says she's going to pay for me to go to Art School so I can do more."

Erica patted him on the arm and said, "when it's two characters fucking, it's fanart, so," she beamed around the room, "my turn." Peter set his coffee down and leaned back against the kitchen sink. "There was a tower, or a room, it was old, and there were people everywhere having sex, and they were doing it to please me, because I wanted to watch, because it amused me, and it did, and Stiles had his head between my legs and he was licking, he was pleasing me because I wanted to be pleased, he was touching me because everything was to please me, and it was so good," she was practically purring, "it's how I imagine that the fae day party Lydia threw was like, you know the one we weren't allowed to go to."

Peter chuckled. "You don't have the control for _La Siosiain_ yet, I know you're getting better and it wasn't a full moon, but seriously, it's always embarrassing when you take young werewolves to an orgy." He said with a smile, "someone pees in the pot plants, there's someone humping the chair. You know that film that Laura made you watch, with the Ha-wee-wee." Isaac snorted a laugh into his hand, "it's like that, you're destructive and it's just embarrassing, and Lydia would have you followed by housekeeping and then there's someone sniffing people, and the licking, dear god the licking. Maybe next year, or the one after that." He rolled his eyes, "we've all been there, Derek's first bacchanal was..." he sucked his breath in through his teeth, "no, he needs to tell you about that himself." He chuckled to himself, "and get Laura to show you the photos."

"So," he continued, his voice silky smooth and generally creepy, "my dream. I was chasing Stiles through the forest, and he was laughing, shedding clothes as he went, he was wearing this ridiculous red hood, velvet, it gave off fluff like blood spatters when I caught it in my claws, and he tripped, ass up, and I mounted him, rutting into him, and knotted him."

"Hang on," Erica said, "you all told us that wasn't a thing."

Peter smirked. "Sort of, only male alphas can knot, and then sporadically." His grin was a knife edge, "doesn't mean we can't dream now, does it, but it stuffed him full and he was crying, and dribbling and begging for more as he twisted around to kiss me."

"So," Stiles said, trying to redeem whatever remained of the dignity in the kitchen, "the only thing these dreams had in common is you all dreamt of having sex with me."

"And your mouth." Erica added. "And we're all wasted this morning, like someone unplugged us in the night." The boys agreed with that. 

"Except him," Boyd cocked his thumb at Stiles who shrugged.

Peter tilted his head for a moment and then burst out laughing, before pulling his phone from the back pocket of his pants. "looks like we might have to call Laura home early," he gave Stiles a rather lewd leer, "because someone appears to be able to feed in dreams now."


End file.
